With You (I Am Whole Again)
by ToQuinnWithLove
Summary: "Nothing mattered except the girl with the hideous sweaters, over-confident attitude, and a knack for giving Quinn the kinds of feelings she would rather die than confront." Faberry Drabbles of various genres, completed from online prompts. Trigger warnings for some chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** Hi All :) I wrote these random drabbles for fun and just figured I'd post them here. I found a bunch of online writing prompts and then just let my imagination go from there. Most of it sticks to the canon of the universe (with the devastatingly obvious exception that Faberry _exists_), but some things are borne from my own personal head-canon so I'm sorry if there's some small discrepancies. Similarly, I haven't gone to any great lengths to edit these, and some of them are quite old, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes in grammar or whatnot. Anyway-enjoy!

* * *

Prompt 1: Wild Night:

Rachel opened a bleary eye and was just about to open the other when she took in the blaring sunlight streaming through the bedroom window—there were usually blinds closed on that window. Why weren't the blinds closed?

Reaching across the bed, she had a dawning realization that the open blinds probably had something to do with the absence of a certain blonde in the bed next to her. Quinn's place was warm, so she obviously hadn't been up long, but Rachel still pouted at her lack of presence when her girlfriend so obviously needed her. Instead of calling Quinn's name she let out a loud groan and sure enough, Quinn had heard her and appeared in the doorway within seconds.

"How are you feeling?" the taller girl asked, sitting gingerly on the bed next to Rachel and holding out a steaming cup of tea.

"Like hell," Rachel moaned, squinting her eyes and taking the tea from Quinn. She bent over to take a sip but recoiled at the smell. "Ugh, I'm sorry I can't even think about putting things in my stomach right now," Quinn looked a little affronted at having her tea rejected, but her face smoothed over into a sympathetic expression when she saw how pale Rachel was.

"Maybe that's best…" she frowned, crawling under the covers and reaching out her arms for Rachel to cuddle into. "You drank _so_ much last night."

"Please don't remind me," Rachel winced. "And if you so much as utter the word vodka, I'm going to vomit all over you."

Quinn scrunched up her nose and began playing with Rachel's hair.

"No thank you," she giggled. "You did enough of that last night."

"What?" Rachel's head shot up from Quinn's chest, an action she regretted immediately after. "Did I really? I vomited on you? I don't remember… Oh my god Quinn I'm so sorry!"

Quinn giggled again and guided Rachel's head back to her chest.

"I'm teasing you babe. You did puke. A lot. Just not on me."

"On anyone?" Rachel asked, timidly.

"No, and thankfully you made it to the toilet too. With a lot of help from me, I might add," she chuckled, remembering how Rachel had insisted she was completely fine and could still make it for another round at the next bar they had gone to. Half an hour later found the sick Brunette hunched over the toilets in the bar with her girlfriend rubbing her back and holding her hair out of the way.

"Thanks for taking care of me," Rachel mumbled, scooting her body closer so that she was flush against Quinn.

"Of course," Quinn said matter-of-factly. "It's not like I was going to leave you there."

"No but, you know what I mean. I know you don't like when I drink that much…" Rachel trailed off, referring to the fights they used to have when Rachel would come home from cast parties completely wasted and puking on the doorstep.

"It's not like that anymore, Rach. You weren't with some sleezbags at random skeevy New York City clubs. You were with me. I mean, I did tell you to slow down on the shots, but you know…arguing with you is rather tough, especially when I was pretty wasted myself."

"You were more high than you were drunk though, right?" Rachel asked, nuzzling her nose into Quinn's neck.

"So you do remember some of the night," Quinn laughed, rubbing small circles on her girlfriend's back.

"Pieces of it. You and Santana got stoned before we even left the apartment."

Quinn didn't miss the hint of an accusatory tone.

"Rachel come on, you know I'm more lucid when I'm high than drunk anyway. I needed to be on my top game because I knew you wanted to drink so I had to look out for you. But believe me, I was plenty drunk as well," Quinn assured her.

"I know, I'm sorry. To each her own. You know I just hate the smell."

Quinn knew there was more to pot that Rachel hated, but she didn't want to dreg up a negative past, and she accepted Rachel's placating gesture as a peace offering.

"So I take it you're not going to want breakfast?" Quinn asked playfully, entwining their legs and pulling Rachel farther on top of her.

Rachel groaned, clutching at her stomach and closing her eyes.

"Sorry, sorry," Quinn bit her lip. "I didn't realize you were really that nauseous. But if it makes you feel better, I don't think there's anything else in your stomach to come up."

Rachel winced again and hugged Quinn's middle.

"Stop talking about throwing up before I do it all over you."

"Hmmm, what was that Miss Berry? What are you going to do all over me?" Quinn teased, making her way to cup Rachel's ass, squeezing quickly.

"Quinn if you think I'm up for having sex right now then you've got another thing coming," Rachel mumbled into Quinn's neck.

"I'd _like_ to have another thing coming," Quinn bit her lip, stifling her laughter.

"Quinn!"

"Sorry, love, it was just too easy. I'll let you rest if you want…" she said, taking her hands off of Rachel's ass.

"Yes please," Rachel nodded imperceptibly and gave Quinn's neck a tiny kiss. "Stay with me though? You know I hate waking up and seeing you're not there."

"I know, I'm sorry. I figured you'd be feeling kind of punchy and might want tea."

"Well I do appreciate it, but right now I'd rather have you." Rachel yawned and melded her body more softly into Quinn's side, luxuriating under the soft touches the blonde was administering to her back.

"Close your eyes and relax, Rach. We don't have to do anything for hours. I'll be here when you wake up and then you can drink your tea," Quinn offered, now running her fingers against Rachel's scalp and through her hair.

"I love you," Rachel breathed out.

"Love you too, drunky."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Prompt: In Love

"What?" Rachel asked, letting out a noise between a giggle and an exasperated sigh.

"Nothing, nothing," Quinn raised her eyebrows, shaking her head and shifting herself so that she was propped up on her elbow, hovering over her girlfriend. "You're just…stunning," she whispered, taking her index finger and trailing it across Rachel's collarbone.

"I'm not…" Rachel spoke quietly, closing her eye and sinking back into the pillows. She moved to cover her naked chest with the blankets, but Quinn moved quicker, gently pulling the white sheet from her hand and shaking her head again.

"You don't need to do that around me, ok? I told you I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and I mean it, Rachel. I don't know how I ended up so lucky," she breathed, sniffling a little as she looked down into Rachel's eyes.

"You're crying!" Rachel exclaimed, a grin spreading across her face. "Sweetheart, you're actually crying right now!" She bit her lip and let out a small giggle, reaching up to cup Quinn's cheek and wipe away the droplets of saline.

"I'm happy," Quinn defended. "You don't understand what that means for me…Rachel you know I used to be unhappy, but I don't think you understand the extent to which I was absolutely fucking miserable," she explained, ignoring how Rachel flinched when she cursed. "My family is…my family, and they didn't make it easy to grow up. And I wasn't ok with a single aspect of myself, from my weight to my appearance, and especially my sexuality."

Rachel listened intently, nodding slightly and scratching the back of Quinn's neck soothingly.

"And now there's you, and you're pretty much the best thing that's ever been in my life, and yeah I'm crying but it's only because I'm so in love with you," she let out, sighing with cathartic release.

Opposite her nature, Rachel didn't say anything, just pulled Quinn down and pressed her lips against Quinn's. She smiled and groaned a little at Quinn's responsiveness, and the way she lowered her body so she was lying parallel on top of Rachel.

"You know that cheesy line where it's like 'I love you to the moon and back?'" Rachel asked, reaching her hands to Quinn's lower back and fisting her tank top.

"Hmmm," Quinn nodded, shifting so Rachel could pull her shirt over her head.

"I don't know if I like it," Rachel hummed, unclasping Quinn's bra and sliding the straps down her arms. "I don't know if I'd want to love you to the moon and back."

"Well where do you want to love me to?" Quinn giggled, letting her bra fall off the side of the bed.

"That's the thing, I don't want to love you to anywhere. That implies that I have to leave you. Like I love you so much I'll go to the moon and back for you, but I don't want to ever go anywhere that far without you. I'd like to think that if I went so far as the moon, you'd be right beside me the whole time, reading me your poems and complaining about how the moon doesn't have bacon," Rachel laughed, halfway serious.

Quinn rolled her eyes and kissed Rachel again.

"You're ridiculous," Quinn said through blurry eyes. "And now you're making me cry again," she sniffed, reaching up to wipe at her eyes.

"Happy tears though, right?" Rachel giggled, moving her legs so they were wrapped around Quinn's.

"Always, love," Quinn answered, leaning back down to kiss her girl.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Prompt: Regret

She was at her locker, all decked out in the tiniest skirt Quinn had ever seen, and a sweater that looked like it was sewn by a five year old for an ugly sweater party. Quinn tried to focus on the ugliness of the sweater and not the way the girl's skirt had risen slightly as she reached into her locker, revealing an inch or so more of her long, toned legs. This was Rachel Berry, the loud-mouthed, obnoxious know-it-all who liked to sing in empty classrooms when she thought no one was looking. She had no place at this school, and under the social hierarchy of high school, it was Quinn's job to make sure she knew it. It had been that way for years, and Quinn would administer a thousand slushy facials than admit she was tired of it.

Biting the inside of her lip and resolutely setting her face into a scowl, Quinn turned behind her to the two hulking football players, giving them a decisive nod and watching as they sidestepped her and made their way toward the tiny girl reaching into her locker. Closing her eyes, Quinn heard the small squeak and the familiar splashing sound of ice-cold, blue dye #4 hitting its target. When she opened her eyes and peered around the corner, all that was left to be seen was a puddle of melted blue slushy forming around a dry spot in the shape of two, size seven Mary-Jane shoes.

Her own shoes seemed glued to the floor as she stared at the puddle. It wasn't supposed to be like this…she was supposed to be popular, of course—hadn't Daddy always told her she was nothing if not important? And hadn't Mommy always imparted in her the significance of a good reputation? Of being pretty, and popular, and influential, and on top? She chewed methodically at the inside of her lip as she remembered being twelve and asking her parents if they loved her. Four years later and she still never got her answer.

Pathetic. That's how she felt staring at the blue mess, which seemed to reflect everything she hated about herself. About this school. About absolutely fucking everything. With a deep sigh, she forced her feet to move, and she inched closer to the puddle; she looked down into it and tried not to catch her own reflection—she failed, and blinked back tears when she saw the miserable, pathetic face staring back. It's the face everyone wants, or so she's been told by countless girls she's walked all over, or nameless guys she's fucked. None of it mattered, she'd trade her face in for a life she could actually endure without wanting to swallow a handful of sleeping pills. Absolutely none of it mattered to her anymore.

Nothing except the girl with the hideous sweaters, over-confident attitude, and a knack for giving Quinn the kinds of feelings she would rather die than confront. Somehow, that girl found her way inside Quinn, and somewhere along the way, Quinn decided that she mattered a whole lot. Because she was also the girl with the long legs, the soft, brown hair that cascaded down her back in gentle waves, and curled just so at the ends; she was also the girl with the voice like a songbird, who rendered Quinn immovable and speechless every time she heard it; she was the girl with the kindness and compassion of someone who had never seen what the world could do, and she was the girl who didn't deserve the way the world was treating her. The way Quinn was treating her.

She backed away from the puddle, her heart sinking and her throat tightening. It wasn't the first time she had cried in school—only last week Santana had caught her in a bathroom stall, hunched over the toilet, sobbing at the mess of lunch and blood staring back at her—but it was the first time she had cried over Rachel Berry. She didn't want to think of what that meant. She only wanted to go home and pull out the bottle of vodka she kept under her bed and down just enough to stop thinking for five fucking minutes.

But the bell rang, and Quinn wiped her eyes on she shoulder of her cheerleading uniform, plastered a smirk onto her face, and didn't look back when she brushed against a small, watery-eyed figure walking out of the bathroom smelling like blueberry slushie.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Prompt: Yoga Class

"What are you doing this Sunday morning?" Rachel asked, stopping her absentminded scrolling on her phone and looking over at Quinn, who looked up from the newspaper she'd been reading.

"Going to church."

If Rachel hadn't known her girlfriend so well, she would've missed the joke. She rolled her eyes and sank farther into the couch, moving to place her legs across Quinn's thighs.

"No, really. Do you have any important plans?"

"On a Sunday morning? No. I was just planning on waking up and making some coffee and maybe heading over to the farmers' market on fifty-third while I wait for you to get out of yoga. The woman selling that jam you love so much is coming back this weekend," Quinn shrugged, her hands falling to Rachel's shins and rubbing them, eyes wandering back to her newspaper.

"Well, though I do appreciate your thoughtfulness, Quinn, jam can wait."

Quinn set the newspaper down fully this time and turned to Rachel.

"And what can jam wait _for_, Rach? What's going through your mind?" she chuckled, pulling playfully at Rachel's toes. Rachel squealed and yanked her foot back.

"Come to yoga with me."

"What? Rachel, no. I'm awful at yoga, you know that. And that incense gives me headaches," she huffed.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Marijuana doesn't give you headaches, but the smell of incense does," she muttered under her breath. "Come on, please? It'll be fun. I always talk about you there and my instructor suggested I invite you, free of charge!"

"Free of charge? What's the catch?"

"No catch at all. I just want to show you what it's like, and I think it'll really help you. You've been majorly stressed lately and you're hunched over that laptop all the time writing…I think this will be a great opportunity for you to relax and nourish your mind and body." Rachel spoke excitedly and Quinn sighed.

"You sound like a hippie."

"And you sound like a grump. Quinn pleaseeeee…and don't give me any more of that 'I'm not good at yoga' miss head cheerio," Rachel raised her eyes.

"What does me having been head cheerio have to do with being good at yoga?"

"You're flexible," Rachel stated matter-of-factly, braving putting her feet back in Quinn's lap.

"I haven't done cheer in nearly six years, babe," Quinn pointed out, returning her hand to Rachel's shins and rubbing up and down.

"You're still flexible," Rachel winked, her voice low and playful now.

"Oh yeah? What makes you say that?" Quinn teased, already knowing the answer.

"Hmm I wonder," Rachel rolled her eyes. "I don't suppose I'd know because 75% of the time I spend with you is spent in bed."

"75%!? Rachel that's not even close to being accurate. We do other things besides sex!"

"I know, I know," Rachel conceded. "But you're still flexible.

"Fine, I'm flexible. I still don't want to go."

"What if afterward we went to Grinds?" Rachel pleaded, trying to appease her stubborn girlfriend.

"What the fuck? What's that, some kind of weird sex club?" Quinn asked, stopping the movement of her hands against Rachel's ankles.

"No, perv. It's the new coffee shop on fourtieth. The one I've been telling you about for weeks. Nice to know you pay attention when I talk…" Rachel huffed.

"Sorry," Quinn said sheepishly. "If it makes you feel any better, it's hard to pay attention to your words when I'm staring at your ass."

"Quinn!"

Quinn only grinned, pushing Rachel's legs off of her and swinging her body around so that she was hovering over the brunette.

"It's just…_such_ a nice ass," she bit her lip and ground her body down into Rachel.

"Q—fuck," Rachel moaned, letting her head fall back against the arm of the couch. "You should talk. Yours is like…godly."

Quinn blushed and ducked her head.

"Six years and you still blush every time I compliment your body," Rachel spoke softly, reaching up to cup Quinn's cheek. She ran her thumb back and forth over the soft skin directly under Quinn's eye.

"You know why, Rachel. My body isn't something I…Before you, I never felt…you know what I did to my body. It's hard to…"

"Shhh," Rachel soothed, leaning up to peck Quinn's lips softly. "I know, sweetheart. But you're here now, with me, and yes you're beautiful but you know that you're so so much more."

Quinn nodded after a moment and looked down at the best thing that had ever happened to her.

"I love you, you know."

"Right back at you," Rachel winked. "So, does that mean you'll come to yoga with me?" she added, slyly.

"Will you be wearing those sexy leggings?" Quinn asked, swping her tongue across her lip.

"Mhmm. And bending over practically _all_ the time. Twisting and writhing my body into all_ kinds_ of wonderful poses," she spoke lowly, her voice husky. "I get a lot of release that way…."

Quinn bit her lip and gave a small groan.

"Fine. You win. I'm in."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
Prompt: Sitting next to each other on a long bus ride.

Rachel huffed for the fourth time that minute as she attempted to make herself more comfortable on the grimy bus seat, carefully scooting her body closer to Quinn's and strategically avoiding the dark stain on the blue seat.

"Someone's agitated," Quinn commented, looking over the top of her book and smirking at Rachel's attempts to get more comfortable.

"These seats are _so_ uncomfortable, Quinn," she whined, arching her back and massaging her neck, circling her thumb around the knot that had begun to form.

"I know, babe, but we only have an hour left and then we'll be in Cincinnati. And then we can get out and I'll go for a walk with you to stretch out before we perform, alright?"

Rachel sighed and nodded, leaning the right side of her body against Quinn and looping her arm through her girlfriend's.

"Do you mind if I sleep on you? I'm exhausted."

"Of course not. You can lie across my lap if you want, it'll give your legs more room to stretch out," she offered, clearing her bag off of her lap.

Rachel nodded and bent down to riffle through her own bag, pulling out her iPod and then maneuvering her body so that she was curled up on the seat, her head in Quinn's lap.

"Mmmm this is much better," she giggled, scooting around until she found the perfect position. "Why didn't I do this earlier?"

Quinn laughed and started playing with the ends of Rachel's hair, eliciting a soft hum from the brunette.

"What are you going to listen to?" Quinn asked, nodding toward Rachel's iPod.

"I don't know yet….pick something?" Rachel asked, handing the iPod over to Quinn and closing her eyes, breathing deep and toying with the hem of Quinn's dress. She liked the feeling of the cotton between her fingers, but she liked even more when her fingers would slip slightly and she'd be rubbing Quinn's bare thigh. Quinn had the most perfect skin.

"Sure," Quinn laughed, taking the iPod and scrolling through Rachel's playlists. She was just about to pick a song when she felt a powerful jolt to her seat that almost caused Rachel to tumble from her lap. Narrowing her eyes she placed her hand on Rachel's shoulder to steady her and rose slightly in her seat, looking behind her to where Brittany and Santana were sitting. She grimaced as she saw them wrapped around each other, Santana's foot jammed against the back of Quinn's seat into which it had presumably been thrust, causing the sudden jolt. "Can you two knock it off for like, ten minutes?" she growled.

Santana, still attached to Brittany by the lips, raised her hand and flipped Quinn off while simultaneously slipping her hand underneath Brittany's top. Brittany giggled and threw her leg over Santana's lap, kissing her harder.

"Santana!" Quinn said louder this time, reaching over to smack her best friend on the shoulder.

"_What_?" Santana growled, angrily, finally surfacing from Brittany.

"You kicked my seat, and Rachel's trying to sleep—can the two of you quit it for like, ten fucking seconds? If Mr. Schue catches you screwing each other on this bus again he's going to kick you out of the club," she huffed, groaning internally at how much she sounded like Rachel.

"Fuck off, Q. What's wrong? Berry not letting you finger her or something?"

Quinn turned bright red and narrowed her eyes in anger.

"Ok first of all, neither of us is going to do _that_ on a public bus, unlike the two of you. And second, this is the last time I'm going to tell you to stop making crude jokes about our sex life!"

"San," Brittany whined, trying to pull Santana back on top of her.

Quinn only rolled her eyed when Santana flipped her off again and went back to making out with Brittany, giving Quinn's seat a good hard kick as if to say 'don't tell me what to do.' Quin sat back down with a huff and tugged at Rachel's arm until she was sitting up in the seat again. Not waiting to give Rachel an explanation, she cupped her cheek and brought their lips together, kissing her thoroughly. When she finally pulled away, Rachel had a dazed, satiated grin on her face.

"She really gets to you, doesn't she?" Rachel spoke, this time swinging her legs across the blonde's lap and resting her torso parallel to Quinn's.

"Who, Santana?" Quinn raised her eyebrows. "Of course she does, that's not a secret. She's a bitch."

"Maybe," Rachel shrugged, "but if she makes you kiss me like that, then I almost want to thank her," she chuckled.

"Ugh, please don't," Quinn made a face, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I know you're sleepy. I just wanted to tell her that kicking my seat was rude when you were trying to sleep."

"Well, I'm not really tired anymore," Rachel hummed, placing a small kiss to Quinn's neck.

"But I was going to pick out a nice, calming song for you to listen to," Quinn pouted, involuntarily turning her neck so that Rachel had more skin to kiss.

"Hmm, but then you kissed me. And now that's kind of all I can think about."

"Rach, I just yelled at those two back there," she jabbed her thumb in Brittany and Santana's direction, "for fooling around on the bus…I don't want to be hypocritical," she frowned.

"Fine," Rachel smirked, pulling away completely and turning to look out the window. After several moments, Quinn groaned and bit her lip, pulling on Rachel's arm.

"Maybe I could make an exception…if we're quiet," she whispered.

Rachel grinned and folded her body back into Quinns, resuming planting kisses to Quinn's neck.

"If you're extra quiet, I may even let you finger me," Rachel breathed, grinning against Quinn's neck. Quinn blushed scarlet red and pulled away from Rachel.

"Really?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"Well, no. But I'll let you tell Santana that you did, if you want. To get her to shut up," Rachel said, biting her lip and looking down.

"You heard what she said?" Quinn asked.

Rachel nodded and pecked Quinn on the lips quickly.

"Mhmm. It's ok though, thanks for defending me by the way. Defending us. You're right, our sex life is absolutely none of her business, no matter how much it so obviously turns her on to think about," Rachel said matter-of-factly.

Quinn burst out laughing, nodding her head and taking Rachel's hand.

"C'mere, babe," she breathed, pulling Rachel in for a deeper kiss this time.

"You're kind of the best," Rachel spoke between kisses.

"Kind of?"

"Just kiss me."

And Quinn did.


	6. Chapter 6

p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"Prompt: College Faberry/p  
hr /  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;" /p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""It's small…" Quinn trailed off, nervously biting her lip and watching Rachel's expression as they crossed the threshold into her freshman dorm room. She had sent Rachel pictures the second she finished putting the room together, yet she was still anxious to see how her girlfriend would react to it in person./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;" /p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""It's…" Rachel spoke softly, letting her eyes drift from the light purple, floral bedspread, over the desk laden with classic literature books and strewn with various papers, and finally to the walls covered in pictures, hanging fairy lights, and a framed recreation of Van Gogh's 'Almond Blossoms'. Quinn held her breath until Rachel spoke. "It's so, em style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"you/em," she giggled, dropping her duffle bag to the ground and spinning so that she could wrap her arms around Quinn's waist. "I love it."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""You sure?" Quinn asked, still biting her lip. "There isn't much room—"/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""—I'm a tiny person."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""And it can get a little cold at night—"/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""—I'm always warm anyway."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""And the bed—"/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""—Is the perfect size for cuddling. Seriously, sweetheart, stop fretting or you'll drive yourself insane. I love it, ok? It's perfect and I can't wait to spend the weekend here with you, even if we never leave this room," Rachel's smile, sweet and genuine as always, instantly calmed Quinn./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""I was nervous…" she let out the breath she had been holding./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""I could tell," Rachel teased, winking. She giggled and tightened her hold around Quinn's waist, pulling her girlfriend in for a proper hug. "Now will you em style="mso-bidi-font-style:  
normal"please/em give me the greeting that you were too reserved to give me on the train platform?" she hummed, peeking her head up and looking Quinn directly in the eye. Quinn's face broke out into a huge grin and she hastened to cup Rachel's cheeks in her hands, bringing their lips together./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;"Rachel stumbled backward a little at the force of the kiss, and she giggled into Quinn's mouth before switching positions so that her arms were wrapped tightly around Quinn's neck. Quinn moved her arms to Rachel's hips and squeezed, drawing a tiny moan from the shorter girl, who in turn gently ran the tip of her tongue across Quinn's bottom lip. When Rachel felt the back of her knees hit the bed, she relaxed her body and let herself fall backward with Quinn on top of her, breaking the kiss for only a few seconds./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""That's more like it," Rachel breathed, nearly five minutes later when the two had broken apart. "God I've missed you."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""You just missed making out," Quinn laughed, hooking her arms behind Rachel's knees and swinging them around so that Rachel could lie flat on the bed. Climbing up after her, Quinn crawled up to Rachel and propped herself up on her elbow so that she could look down at the brunette beneath her. Rachel's mouth was red and swollen from the force of their kiss, her chest was rising and falling slightly above a normal rate, and her soft chestnut hair was splayed across Quinn's pillow./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""I think I missed a little more than that," Rachel pointed out, bringing her hand up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Quinn's ear./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""Sex?" Quinn joked, wiggling her eyebrows and letting her eyelids flutter a bit as Rachel played with her hair./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""em style="mso-bidi-font-style:  
normal"You/em, Quinn!" Rachel said, exasperatedly, giving Quinn's shoulder a little shove. "But I mean…I did miss the sex, too," she giggled./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""Oh babe, you have no idea," Quinn groaned. "At least you have your own closed off area in the apartment! Look how close her bed is to mine," Quinn jabbed her thumb to where her roommate's bed rested, mere feet from Quinn's own. "It's not even like I can, you know, em style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"take care of myself,/em with her laying there every night."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;"Smirking slightly, Rachel turned her attention back to her pouting girlfriend hovering above her. She brought her hand up and started trailing it under Quinn's shirt, ignoring the blonde's small gasp and traveling her hand higher until she was cupping Quinn's breast over her bra./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""Shit. Rachel," Quinn moaned as Rachel gave a small squeeze./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""Hmmm?" Rachel hummed, biting her lip and watching as Quinn's eyes slipped shut./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""Feels so good…." She sighed. "I thought you were going to want to wait until after I took you out to dinner."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""Dinner!" Rachel exclaimed, immediately retracting her hand from under Quinn's shirt. "How could I forget," she chimed in a sing-song voice. "Where is it again you're taking me, love?"/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;"Quinn just gaped at her, opening and closing her mouth a few times before shutting it altogether and grumbling./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""Tease," she muttered, rolling her eyes and straightening out her shirt./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;"Rachel gave Quinn a mildly sympathetic look before pecking her quickly on the lips and bounding off the bed./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""Seriously, where are we going? I brought a few different outfits, all of which depend entirely on the level of elegance and class of this restaurant, so I'd appreciate it if—"/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""Just wear anything you feel comfortable in, babe. It's not all that fancy, but it's not like, a diner either. A casual dress will be fine. And besides, it's not like I'm going to think you're anything less than stunning in whatever you decide to wear," Quinn reassured her, swinging her legs over the bed to watch Rachel riffle through her duffle./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;"Rachel felt her cheeks blush at Quinn's words, and she looked over her left shoulder to find Quinn looking at her, her green eyes alight with what was undeniably love./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""You're amazing, you know," Rachel breathed. " And I love you so so much."/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;" /p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;"Quinn ducked her head and smiled bashfully, recovering only when Rachel had turned back to her bag./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: left;""I love you too," she whispered. "And I always will."/p  
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	7. Chapter 7

Prompt: Faberry Fight

* * *

"No, Rachel."

Despite having heard those words nearly five times in the last week alone, Rachel lets out a frustrated growl and slams the phone down. With a cracking sound, the back glass of her new iPhone 4 shatters, and Rachel watches in anger as the cracks wind themselves farther up the glass until they reach the edges and stop. She barely has time to assess the damage before the phone is ringing again, her girlfriend's face lighting up the screen. She thoroughly debates not answering.

"What."

"You hung up on me," Quinn answers, slowly.

"Your deductive reasoning skills are astounding," Rachel fires off, sarcasm dripping icily from her voice.

"Can you not be a bitch for like, five second? Ok? Is that possible right now?" Quinn shoots back, her placid tone melting away.

"Fuck you," Rachel spits out, her hand already moving to pull the phone from her ear. She only stops when she hears Quinn's yell coming out of the speaker.

"If you hang up on me again, we're done!"

Rachel jams the phone back up against her ear and storms out of the kitchen and into the living room where she begins to pace in front of the coffee table.

"I bet that's what you want, isn't it?" she sneers, her voice low and menacing.

"Excuse me?" Quinn falters for a moment, allowing herself to sound wounded for a sliver of a moment before pulling herself back together. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I bet that's why you're against this entire thing. I bet you're just using it as an excuse to get rid of me. Using prom as a cop out so that you can ease yourself out of this relationship. Because you're too much of a fucking coward to say it to my face. Well that's nothing new," she spat. "You've always been a coward, Quinn Fabray."

There is silence for a moment, neither girl speaking.

"If that's really what you think of me…" Quinn's voice is small, broken sounding, and Rachel can tell she's crying.

"I…." Rachel stammers, already regretting her words. "I don't know what to think anymore."

Another silent pause, this one longer than the last.

"Why can't you just see that this is for the best?"

"Because it's not."

"You're being close-minded."

"I'm being—_I'm_ being?" Rachel gasps, incredulously. "That's a bit hypocritical, don't you think?"  
"No, I don't think. I think you're being completely and belligerently close-minded, Rachel. All I'm trying to do is protect us—"

"Protect _us_?" Rachel lets out a derisive laugh. "Oh don't even pretend that this has anything to do with _us_. You're just concerned about preserving your precious reputation. As always. God, I really thought you'd changed."

"This has nothing to do with my reputation, Rachel!" Quinn screams.

"Like hell it doesn't."

"You're being unfair," Quinn lets out a sigh. "And really mean."

"Get over it."

"Do you even understand how much of a risk it would be if we went to prom together?" Quinn cries, and Rachel falls back onto the couch behind her.

"Yes. And I don't give a—"

"Well I don't think you really do understand," Quinn presses. "It's not just going to be teasing from the jocks, or dirty looks from the rest of the student body. It's…I know your dads like to shelter you from things like these, but did you read the newspaper about a week ago?"

"Of course not, I never—"

"Then you wouldn't have heard. And I wasn't entirely keen on bringing it up with you, but last Saturday a gay couple in Columbus went to their own prom together. They went as an out-and-proud couple, Rachel. And do you know what happened to them? They got assaulted on their way out of the dance. A couple of assholes in their class jumped them in the parking lot, and they're both in the hospital with severe injuries." Quinn pauses. "If that ever happened to you…if I ever had to see you laying in a hospital bed because I was careless and stupid and naïve and took you to that dance…I'd never be able to forgive myself."

"But that was Columbus," Rachel starts.

"And this is Lima, baby," Quinn sighs, and Rachel can picture her pinching the bridge of her nose. "I hate that you think this is some sort of ploy to protect my reputation, or some sort of selfish pride thing, because I thought we'd moved past all that. I love you Rachel, and I want nothing more than to be able to walk into that dance with you on my arm to show you off to the world…but I just really don't think it's a good idea."

Rachel sniffles a bit, drying her eyes on her sleeve and sinking back into the couch cushions.

"I'm sorry I accused you…I didn't mean…I love you too, Quinn. It's just, I wanted this so badly. And a part of me was terrified that you'd backtracked on all the progress we've made together, with your accepting your sexuality and all that. I mean, we're not even out to the school yet…you can't blame me for thinking that way."

"I'm not going to lie to you and tell you I'm not afraid to come out. I am. This isn't as easy for me as it is for you, and you know that, Rachel. But please don't make this, my decision, about that. I just want you safe, baby."

Rachel sighs and sniffles again.

"I'm sorry I've been such a bitch about everything. I just really, really wanted this."

"I know you did. And you can't even image how sorry I am that I can't give it to you; but I'm going to make it up to you, sweetheart. Ok? I am. I promise."

Rachel lets out a deep breath and then nods, before realizing Quinn can't see her.

"Ok. Well you can start by buying me a new iPhone," she says guiltily, and she can hear Quinn's sigh of relief over the end of the argument.

"Done. We'll go to the mall tomorrow after school. What happened to yours?"

"You're going to think I'm such a brat…" Rachel bites her lip.

"I already do," Quinn teases. "Tell me what happened."

Rachel gasps, feigning offense and then giggles again.

"When I hung up on you, I slammed it on the counter and well…you can imagine what happened."

"Rachel!"

"It won't happen again, I promise!"

"Damn right it won't, because we're not going to fight again like this for a long time, ok?"

"Ok," Rachel smiles and then glances at the clock on the wall. "And um, if you _really_ want to make this up to me, you could always come over. My dads won't be home for another two hours…"

"Done and done," Quinn grins, already shoving her keys into her bag and slipping on her shoes. "Get ready, Rach. Because I intend to _thoroughly_ make it up to you. I intend to make it up to you on every surface, in every room, and as many times as your little body can take before your parents get home."

And before Rachel can respond, Quinn hangs up.


	8. Chapter 8

Prompt: Quinn and Rachel telling the rest of the glee club that they're dating

* * *

"Why don't you just sing me a really romantic song and like, stare at me the entire time so that everyone knows you're singing to me. And then after you can just, you know, tell them we're dating…?" Rachel asked hopefully, sitting up a bit so she could readjust her position. Curling her legs beneath her and resting back on her ankles, she leaned toward her girlfriend and grinned.

"Rach," Quinn frowned. "You know I would if I…I mean, I'd love to but…I don't think I'm ready for such a grand—"

"Shhh, no, baby it's fine," Rachel assured her, placing a placating hand on Quinn's shoulder. "I was somewhat teasing, I know that isn't really your style."

"I wouldn't be opposed to singing to you," Quinn hastened to say. "But that's not exactly how I want to come out to all of our friends. Don't hate me for this, but it's slightly cheesy and cliché…" she trailed off, biting her lip and looking guilty.

"Ok well I'm going to ignore that you just called my romantic idea cheesy and cliché," Rachel narrowed her eyes, giving Quinn a look before pressing on. "But you do realize that we're not actually coming out to _all _of our friends, right? I mean, Britt and Santana already know. Kurt knows—"

"Kurt knows!?" Quinn cried, her eyes wide and a look of panic dawning on her face.

"Yes…I thought I mentioned that," Rachel said slowly. "I told him a day or so after you asked me out. Quinn, come on—it's Kurt! He obviously isn't judging us or anything, that would be incredibly hypocritical of him."

"Kurt doesn't like me."

"Why would you say that?"  
"Come on, Rach, really? I wouldn't suppose it has anything to do with the fact that I had him slushied practically three times a week! I was awful to him…to _you_," she added in a small voice, not meeting Rachel's eye.

"Hey," Rachel cooed, tilting Quinn's chin up so that she'd look at her. "We're past that now. You know that. I'm not one for grudges, especially since I understand the meaning behind the torment now…Quinn Kurt appreciates how much you've changed, and he's happy for us. I promise."

After a moment of silence, Quinn nodded and gave a watery smile.

"Alright, but that still leaves half the club. And I would really prefer to do something a little more subtle than serenade you with some weird lesbian rendition of 'You're The One That I Want,'" she joked.

"So I don't get to see you in a cat-suit a la Olivia Newton John?" Rachel teased, kissing Quinn lightly on the cheek. "Because I think I'd drop dead of sexual frustration."

"Rachel! You can't say things like that!" Quinn blushed a deep red.

"Of course I can, I'm your girlfriend," Rachel waved her hand, dismissing Quinn's protest. "But ok ok, no songs. What about at the party next Friday? Everyone will be kind of tipsy, so hopefully any negative reactions will be quelled by the alcohol blanket. And that way it doesn't even have to be this big thing…we could just hold hands the entire night, maybe kiss a little, and if anyone has anything to say about it, then we just come clean and be as honest as we can."

"That's actually not such a bad idea," Quinn muttered, mulling the idea over in her mind.

"Excellent," Rachel beamed, snuggling into Quinn's side and reaching for the TV remote. "Then it's decided. We go to Santana's party and just act like a couple. A real, honest and out couple. We can do this, ok?"

"Ok," Quinn nodded, taking the remote from Rachel and tossing it onto the floor before grabbing the tiny singer around the hips and pulling her down for a heated kiss.

"You ready?" Rachel asked, squeezing Quinn's hand tighter as they approached Santana's doorstep. Quinn only grunted, afraid that if she opened her mouth she'd be sick. Her heart was pounding at the speed of light, but she was trying her best to stay strong for Rachel.

When they were greeted at the door by an already halfway-hammered Santana, who wasted no time in shoving a few mixed drinks into Rachel and Quinn's hands, Quinn finally started to relax.

"You bitches are late," Santana slurred. "We started without you."

"I can see that," Quinn rolled her eyes, placing her purse on the couch and, hand still enclosed in Rachel's, led them into the kitchen. "Or rather, smell it," she whispered into Rachel's ear when Santana had turned her back.

"I heard that, Fabray," Santana shot over her shoulder, flipping Quinn off as she hopped up onto a kitchen bar stool.

Quinn stepped into the room and immediately took count of who was there. Kurt, Mercedes, and Tina all stood by the refrigerator, watching Mercedes try to drunkenly pour more vodka into her cup. Brittany was in the living room to the left, going over a few new dance moves with Mike, who was apparently designated driver for the night. Puck and Finn were on the couch tossing a football back and forth, and Artie was watching them from his spot next to the couch.

"Quinn! Rachel!" Kurt called, sidling up to the two newcomers and giving them both hugs. Quinn looked confused at first, but eased into the hug until Kurt pulled away.

"You two drove here together?" Tina asked, sounding a little confused.

"We did," Quinn nodded, moving her hand to the small of Rachel's back.

"We got ready together and figured we'd just take Quinn's car since it was already at my house," Rachel added, taking a sip of the drink Santana had handed her. She winced. "Ugh, Santana, what is this? It tastes like rubbing alcohol."

"Ten dollar tequila and pineapple juice. Drink up, Berry—I like you way better when you're wasted," Santana smirked, taking a long sip from her own cup.

"She's not getting wasted," Quinn shot at Santana, protectively drawing Rachel closer to her.

Before Santana could shoot a reply back, Mercedes spoke up.

"Why do you care if she gets wasted? So you can pull some psychotic prank on her?" she asked, pointing an unsteady finger at Quinn. "Not cool, girl."

"That's not—" Quinn began, but she was cut off by Tina.

"Quinn wouldn't do that anymore. She likes Rachel now," she stated, rather bluntly. A drunk Tina was incredibly more straightforward than a sober one.

"Oh yeah," Santana agreed with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrow. "I'd say Q likes Berry a whole lot, if you know what I mean," she snickered.

Rachel had just opened her mouth to retort when Finn, who had just noticed the girls' arrival, appeared at their side.

"Hey Rachel," he smiled dopily. "Haven't seen you in a while. How are you?" he asked, leaning down to give her a hug. Rachel caught a strong whiff of what smelled like rum on his breath.

"I'm doing quite well, Finn. Thank you for asking," Rachel replied, cutting their conversation as short as she could without seeming rude. She didn't need Quinn getting possessive and angry on top of drunk tonight.

"So now that all the hot girls have arrived," came Puck's voice from the living room. "I think it's time we turn this party up."

Everyone laughed, except for Quinn, who wrapped her arm tighter around Rachel's waist. As the group all finished making more drinks and moved into the living room, Quinn held Rachel back.

"I don't like the way Finn's looking at you." She stated, point-blank.

"And I don't ever like the way Noah looks at you," Rachel pointed out. "But you've got to know nothing is going to happen, right? I have absolutely zero feelings for him whatsoever, Quinn. Just like I know you don't have any feelings for Noah."

Quinn grumbled something intelligible before nodding.

"Just stay close to me, alright? I don't want him trying anything."

"Of course, sweetheart," Rachel acquiesced, giving Quinn a peck on the lips before turning into the living room to join the others.

When Rachel took her place on the floor, leaning up against Quinn's legs, as she was seated on the couch above, Brittany leaned toward her and giggled.

"Quinn got all over your mouth, Rach," she smiled sweetly, and before Rachel could ask what she meant, Brittany had reached over and swiped at the corner of Rachel's mouth. When she drew her hand back, Rachel caught sight of a smear of Quinn's lipstick on Brittany's thumb.

"Thanks, Britt," she said softly, but not before catching Puck's eye. The mohawked boy looked confused, and slightly turned on at the same time.

"So who wants to play a game?" Artie asked, downing the rest of his beer and looking around at the group.

"Oooh, me!" Brittany called, bouncing a little on the floor. "How about 'never have I ever'?"

"Britt, you lose that game every god damn time," Kurt complained, folding his arms across his chest. "Besides, I don't really enjoy hearing all the weird sexual things you've done."

"Are you calling my girlfriend a slut, Hummel?" Santana raised her eyebrows at Kurt, who fell silent.

"I'd like to play," Quinn said quietly, and everyone turned to her, surprised.

"Lady Fabray has spoken," Puck nodded, narrowing his eyes slightly as Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck.

"Sounds good to me," Mercedes agreed. "I'll go first. Never have I ever had sex with anyone in this room."

Everyone but Kurt took a drink and put down a finger. Finn, who was to Mercedes's right, went next.

"Never have I ever…um…cheated on my girlfriend!" he yelled.

"Low blow, man," Puck shook his head, giving Finn a punch on the shoulder and taking a drink.

"Never have I ever fingered anyone!" Kurt threw in.

Puck, Finn, Santana, Brittany, Mike, and Rachel put down their fingers.

"Rachel!?" Finn cried, looking horrified. "Who the fuck have you—"

"That's not part of the game, Finn," Kurt defended Rachel, glaring at Finn. "Stop being such a douche."

Rachel cleared her throat and continued.

"Never have I ever made out with more than one person on one night!" she said.

Brittany, Santana, Quinn, Puck, and Finn put down their fingers and took a drink.

It was Quinn's turn next.

"Never have I ever fallen in love with a man in this room."

Tina and Kurt were the only ones to drink.

"Never have I ever had a sexual fantasy about Berry!" Santana called, smirking directly at Quinn.

Puck, Finn, Brittany, Quinn, and Artie all drank.

"Quinn?" Finn shouted, angrily glaring at Quinn, whose arms were still wrapped around Rachel. "What the hell? Little miss Christian, cheerleading, celibate, heterosexual prom Queen?"

Quinn burst out laughing, and Rachel let out a breath of air, relieved that Quinn wasn't upset.

"I'm really not most of those things, Puck," she sighed, squeezing Rachel's shoulder and shrugging a little.

"Well we know you're not celibate," Artie chuckled from the corner.

"What else aren't you?" asked Tina, confused.

"She's not prom queen…right? I mean, voting starts in a week…I'm sure she just meant that she can't technically call herself—"

"That's not exactly what I meant," Quinn spoke softly, her heart quickening steadily. She took another sip of her drink.

"Hey," Rachel whispered, placing her hand over Quinn's on her shoulder and squeezing. "You don't have to…"

Quinn shook her head, wincing a little as the world became fuzzier. She was losing her inhibitions, and she silently thanked the alcohol for giving her courage.

"I want to, Rach. And you deserve it." Quinn paused and looked around the room. "Heterosexual. That's the one I was referring to."

No one spoke, so Quinn continued.

"Rachel and I…we're together."

Another long pause.

"Together like, singing a duet for next week's assignment?" Finn asked, his jaw practically on the floor.

"No, asshole," Santana shot at him. "What are you, five? They're together like how Britt and I are together. Full on lady-loving, softball-playing, plaid-and-vest-wearing, fucking-in-the-hotel-for-regionals, together. They're dating, moron."

Finn just glared at the two girls for a few seconds before standing up abruptly and storming out of the room. Puck looked conflicted for a moment, before turning to Quinn.

"Are you serious?"

"I am," Quinn nodded. "Rachel makes me happy, Puck. I'm sorry if that's something you can't accept, but I can't change it. If you want to go after Finn, I'd understand."

"Go after him?" Puck said after a moment. "Because he's being a little bitch? No way, man. All I want to know is when the super-steamy sex tape of the two of you is going to hit porn hub!"

"Noah!" Rachel cried, glaring at him. "That will _not_ be happening!"

Quinn gave Puck a disgusted look and wrapped her arms possessively around Rachel again.

"Mine," she growled. Rachel gave a smitten smile and bit her lip.

"Yours," she agreed.

"Well, I'm happy for you two," Tina smiled.

"Yeah, not that we ever could have seen it coming, but if you two can get along then maybe all the drama can die down in this damn club!" Mercedes chuckled.

"Oh honey, keep dreaming," Kurt chuckled and then reached over to put his hand on Quinn's shoulder. "I'm proud of you," he whispered.

Quinn felt herself start to tear up, so she focused her attention back on Rachel, who was beaming at her friends, ecstatic and so grateful that they had all (for the most part) been open and accepting.

"Do you mind if we…" Rachel asked, jerking her finger toward the kitchen, indicating that she needed a few minutes alone time to talk to Quinn.

"You girls go do your thing!" Artie called, kindly. "We'll keep playing and you can join in when you get back."

"Thanks," Quinn smiled, standing up and holding out her hand for Rachel, who took it and led them into the kitchen.

Quinn rolled her eyes when she heard Puck yell, "I want pictures!" from the living room. She stopped in front of the stove and backed Rachel against the counter.

"We did it. I can't believe we just did it," she repeated.

"You did it, baby. That was all you. And I'm so so proud…I'm proud of your courage and your patience, and I'm just really proud to call you my girlfriend."

Quinn melted at those words, and leaned down to capture Rachel's lips in a soft but meaningful kiss.

"Things are going to get so much easier for us now," she beamed against Rachel's lips. "We barely have to hide, and we're going to be able to just…just be."

Rachel kissed her back with vigor and nodded.

"I like just being with you, Quinn. I love you."

Quinn's breath caught in her throat for a second before she regained her composure and kissed Rachel harder.

"I love you too."


	9. Chapter 9

Prompt: Anything with this picture post/93898084562 (remove the parenthesis)

* * *

Quinn sighed as she dug her hand into her purse, rifling through lipstick tubes, packs of gum, and a few old tickets to Rachel's shows before coming into contact with her keys. It had been a long day and she as looking forward to coming home to her beautiful fiancée and having a relaxing night. Once Quinn succeeded in unlocking the door, she pushed it open and stepped inside the comfortably-furnished, albeit slightly small, apartment she shared with Rachel in Manhattan. Dumping her bag onto the kitchen counter, she scanned the room for Rachel.

"Rach?" Quinn called out when there was no sight of Rachel. Her eyes moved from the couch, where she usually found the small brunette—more often than not running lines with herself, or else rehearsing a number or two—to the kitchen table, where a place setting for two had been laid out. Confused, Quinn furrowed her brow and called out to Rachel again. When there was no reply, Quinn crossed the apartment and pushed open the door to their shared bedroom, gasping slightly as she took in the state of the room.

The dresser top had been decorated with a few heart-shaped candles, each already lit and emanating a faint smell of roses; on the small table in the corner sat Quinn's record player, a few soft notes lilting toward her ears as the vinyl spun in quick circles; two empty glasses had been placed on the night stand, undoubtedly by Rachel, and next to them rested a large bottle of Merlot. Quinn's eyes glanced toward the bed, which she noticed had been set with her favorite silk sheets. On top of the sheets, lay Rachel, face down and in nothing but a pair of light-blue panties. Her long, dark hair splayed across her back and Quinn's breath caught in her throat as she took in the complete scene before her.

Shrugging off her blazer and draping it carefully over the corner chair, Quinn took two long strides toward the bed, and sat down gently beside Rachel. She brought her hand up and ran it lightly across Rachel's shoulder blades, pushing her dark hair away. She leaned down and placed soft kisses from her right shoulder to her left, humming a little as she did so. When she lifted her head again, trailing her pointer finger up and down Rachel's spine, the sleeping girl began to stir. Not removing her fingers from Rachel's back, Quinn switched her movements from a straight line, to small circles along her girlfriend's lower back.

"Mmmm, Quinn," Rachel breathed, squirming a little and yawning groggily.

"Hi, love," Quinn smiled, increasing the pressure of her fingers.

"I was sleeping," Rachel mumbled, obviously still out of it.

"Hmm, I can see that," Quinn giggled. "I called you a few times, but you didn't answer. I love what you did with the room though."

"What I did with….with…" Rachel said, sounding confused. Suddenly her eyes flew open and she jerked upright. "Oh my god! Wait! No no no no!" she covered her eyes with her hands and groaned. "I fell asleep!"

"Is that a bad thing?" Quinn pressed, playing with the ends of Rachel's hair to calm her.

"Yes!" Rachel growled, frustration bubbling within her. "I planned this entire night for you. It was going to be romantic and sexy and I decorated and bought your favorite wine and I was going to make you this really fancy dinner and then we were going to make love with candles and rose petals and…Quinnn!" she whined, mentally berating herself.

Quinn bit her lip, trying to keep from melting completely.

"You were going to do all that for me?" she asked, her eyes tearing a little.

"Of course. You've been so overworked lately, and I had the evening off and I wanted to do something really special for you, but I had to go ahead and ruin it by falling asleep!" Rachel cried, groaning and flopping back down on the bed, face up this time.

Quinn moved to lie next to her, wrapping her arms around Rachel and pulling her close.

"Rach, you have no idea what that means to me. Just the fact that you had it all planned… you're so sweet and I love you so much. But the night isn't ruined, I promise."

"Yes it is," Rachel pouted. "Dinner isn't cooked, the room isn't finished, and I'm in these old ratty panties."

"Dinner can wait, the room looks beautiful, though obviously nowhere near as beautiful as you," Quinn reassured, placing light kissed to the crown of Rachel's head.

"I went out and bought new underwear for tonight," Rachel sighed. "I was going to greet you at the door wearing it and then make you sit through dinner without being able to touch me."

"Rachel!" Quinn gasped. "That's not romantic, that's teasing!"

"I'm joking, hon," Rachel giggled. "But I did buy some lingerie…I was going to have it on under my dress so that you'd be surprised when you undressed me."

Quinn felt her face flush and she squirmed a little under Rachel.

"That…that would've been really hot."

"Hmmm, yeah, it would've."

There was a pause while neither girl spoke.

"Do you happen to have it with you, like now?"

"It's in the drawer."

"Well then, I believe I can think of a way to salvage the rest of the night, if you're up for it," Quinn whispered into Rachel's ear, nipping her earlobe as she pulled away.

"Don't go anywhere," Rachel commanded, her voice raspy.

"Like I would," Quinn rolled her eyes and squeezed Rachel's ass as she moved to roll off the bed.

A few minutes later, Rachel emerged from the bathroom and Quinn forgot how to breathe.

"Fuck."

"Yes well, that _is_ the plan," Rachel winked, teasingly. She was wearing a matching black bra and panty set, with red lacing around the edges. The top was corseted, and fit perfectly, pushing her breasts up and together—a feature not lost on Quinn, whose gaze was directed at Rachel's chest.

"You look—my god—Rachel," Quinn stammered, holding out her hands for Rachel to approach her.

"I'm glad you like it," Rachel grinned at the floor, suddenly shy. "I know it's a bit much, but like I said, I really wanted this night to be special for you. I feel like lately you've been doing so much for me and I wanted to show you how much I appreciate it."

"God, even when you're wearing this and offering yourself to me for sex, you still manage to be the sweetest thing on the entire planet," Quinn murmured.

"Well, I love you," Rachel shrugged.

"I love you more than anything in the whole world, Rachel," Quinn said, before pulling the smaller girl down on top of her and latching their lips together. "You're my everything."


	10. Chapter 10

Prompt: Rachel and Quinn on break

* * *

"Fuck, you feel so good."

"Mm."

"Come with me."

Quinn felt herself being dragged by the hand through a crowd of people. Her vision blurred further as she moved past a group of boys, their bodies swimming in front of her eyes. Before she could get her bearings, Quinn heard a door click shut and felt her back slam against a wall. Red lips danced in front of her vision, dipping and swaying as her head spun. And then they were on her. On her lips, her neck, her collarbone. Her shirt, already riding up from minutes before, was yanked over her head and tossed hastily to the ground. Her pants soon followed and she felt herself fall back against something soft. Someone was touching her, rough gropes at her breasts and firm grasps at her sides. Rachel was never rough. Rachel was perfect. Rachel…Rachel wasn't here.

Hands were clawing at her stomach now, and Quinn recoiled slightly at the travesty of an intimate touch. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

"Rachel?" she asked, her brain severely malfunctioning from the amount of alcohol she had poured down her throat in the last few hours.

"Thought you were done talking about her," a deep yet distinctly feminine voice responded, and lips pulled away from the swell of Quinn's breast.

"I…where's Rachel?" Quinn tried again, her speech slurred.

"You're fucking _me_, not her, so shut up ok? I liked it better when you weren't talking," the girl hissed, diving back down to latch her mouth onto a peaked brown nipple.

"S-stop," Quinn stuttered, willing her arms, which felt like two led pipes, to move and push the girl away. "I can't…I don't want to—"

"What the fuck?" The girl growled, clearly annoyed. "You were the one was staring at me all night, or were you so fucking wasted that you didn't even know you were doing it?"

"I…" Quinn tried, but her brain was getting fuzzier by the minute, and her stomach was beginning to feel incredibly nauseous.

"You're a god damn mess, you know that?" The girl said, sitting up and moving to fix her hair. "Fuck you," she spat.

Tears now streaming down her face, Quinn tried to sit up as well, but her distinct lack of coordination caused her to fall clumsily back down.

"I can't. You're not, not _her_," Quinn tried to explain, her vision starting to fade. Her memory suddenly flashed back to earlier, on the side of the house, where she was holding out her hand and watching as two white pills were deposited into her palm. She recalled the way they had slid down her throat easily, with the help of a shot of vodka. 'You're a god damn mess,' the girl's voice echoed in her head, and she blinked a few times, her eyes trying hard to focus on the form in front of her, which was now walking toward the door.

"Whoever she is, she's lucky she left. Saved herself the trouble of dealing with you," the girl called from the door. "And _my lord_, eat a fucking meal once in a while, why don't you? I can see every bone in your body." And with that, the door slammed, and the room, along with Quinn's vision, went black.

"Just talk to her, Q! You're slipping again, and I know you think you two are done for good, but if she knew what was going on with you, you know she'd want to help. She's always—"

"Santana, shut up!" Quinn hissed, kicking her sneaker into the dirt and leaning more firmly against the brick wall behind her. After Santana had pulled Quinn aside before their shared second period psychology class, hissing that they 'needed to talk,' Quinn had agreed to meet Santana outside the school during their lunch period. The two of them were now leaning against the side of the school, Santana pulling out a ham sandwich from her bag, and Quinn opening the cap to her bottle of water.

"Don't fucking tell me what to do. You're not my captain right now, you're my friend. And I'm seriously trying to help your sorry ass, ok?" Santana shot, ripping off a piece of the sandwich and handing it to Quinn. "Eat this. Now."

"No."

"Yes. Eat it, and we can change the subject. Refuse, and I'm walking you down to Pillsbury's office right now."

"I'm not eating that."

"What did you bring for lunch?" Santana pressed, narrowing her eyes at her best friend.

Quinn gestured to the water bottle and glared at Santana.

"That's not lunch, that's fucking water, Quinn."

"I'll have one of coach's master cleanse shakes when I get home."

"Bullshit you will. And those don't even count as food, they're liquid laxatives," she yelled, shoving the sandwich farther under Quinn's nose. "Eat the god damn sandwich and I'll stop talking about Rachel."

That had done it. Santana smirked as she noted the change in Quinn's facial expression at the mention of her now ex-girlfriend.

"Fuck you," Quinn spat, grabbing the small piece of sandwich. She ripped the crust off and threw it violently to the ground before taking a deep breath and putting the piece of ham into her mouth, chewing it hesitantly, and swallowing.

Ten minutes later, when the bell had rung and signaled the end of lunch, Quinn parted ways with Santana, checking over her shoulder to make sure the Latina had turned the corner before sprinting into the nearest bathroom, shoving two fingers down her throat and watching as her stomach pinched and emptied its negligible contents.

"Rachel? Can I talk to you?"

"Um, sure Britt. Can it wait though? I have to get home to my dads—we're going to my grandmother's house for an early dinner."

"I don't think it can wait. I mean, maybe it can, but if you made it wait it might be worse," the blonde cheerleader said slowly, biting her lip.

"Ok then," Rachel sighed, closing her locker and turning to face Brittany. "What's up?"

"You need to get back together with Quinn."

"Never one for subtlety, were you?" Rachel rolled her eyes, hoisting her messenger bag over her shoulder.

"Is that a band?" Brittany cocked her head.

"It's—never mind. Look, Brittany, I appreciate your concern with the situation, but honestly you know very little about what happened, so I'd appreciate it if—"

"She's bad again."

"What…what do you mean…?"

"I mean she's bad again. Haven't you seen her lately? She looks like that stray cat I found last year—you know, the one with all the bones everywhere and the sunken eyes and the rabies? The one I named Queenie that died on the way to the vet?"

Rachel sighed again. Yes, she remembered the cat; she also remembered Brittany's parents telling her that, contrary to what they had informed their daughter, they had brought the cat to the vet to be put down. She only remembered the whole thing because that night Quinn had come over after comforting Brittany all day, and had been so frustrated and strung out that she had she walked into the room, bent Rachel over, and fucked her right there on her own desk.

"That can't be my problem anymore," Rachel spoke, trying to make her voice strong and definitive, but failing miserably. "She's…she's destroying herself, and I can't watch it anymore. Not after what happened between us. She needs to grow up, and get over herself, and…and…" her voice cracked.

"She's using again, too, I think," Brittany spoke softly.

Rachel brushed away a few stray tears and sniffled.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"We went to a party last week, and Quinn disappeared sometime around one in the morning. We couldn't find her for like, a super long time and when we did finally, she was passed out on a bed and her clothes were off and…"

"Brittany, stop!" Rachel cried. "What makes you think I want to hear this?"

"Because you care about her! You love her!"

"Well obviously she doesn't care about me if she's going around having sex with strangers at parties!"

"I don't think she…I mean, her underwear was still on," Brittany added.

"Oh please. Come on, Britt—you of all people should know that it's possible to have sex without taking off your underwear," Rachel spat.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Brittany asked, recoiling at Rachel's harsh words.

"Well with all the sexual partners you've had, one or fifteen times have bound to have happened with undergarments still on—"

"Rachel, that's really mean," Brittany's voice was hurt, and Rachel suddenly came to her senses.

"I…oh god, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…it's just that…oh, fuck," she swore, bringing her hands up to her face and letting out a loud sigh. "Can't you and Santana do something about Quinn? Help her, talk to her, make her stop?"

"It's not like we haven't tried," Brittany pressed. "And you know as well as I that just stopping isn't really an option for her. She's like, really messed up, Rach."

"Well I hate to break it to you, but she's not like that simply because we broke up. She's always been like that, and it was only a matter of time before—"

"I can't believe you're being like this! You _love_ her!"

"We _broke up_, Brittany!"

"You're taking a break. That's what you said before."

"I honestly don't know what's going on right now."

"Well," Brittany spoke, her voice poignant and strong. "Then figure it out. Because she needs you."

And with that, she spun on her heel and walked away, leaving a fuming and distressed Rachel behind.

"Hello?" Rachel answered her phone, her voice shaky as her heart quickened.

"Hey."

"Quinn." Rachel's breath caught in her throat.

"You sound surprised," Quinn's voice came, gravely and weak, from the speaker. "Did you not look at the caller ID?"

"You called the house phone. We don't have caller ID."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I guess there are other reasons you'd be surprised by me calling…" Quinn pressed on, tentatively.

"Well, yes. It's not like we've spoken much in the past two months," Rachel said, bitterly.

There was a pause.

"That's not because of me, Rachel."

"Really? Because I actually think it's _completely_ because of you."

"You're the one who ended it," Quinn's voice was barely above a whisper, but Rachel could tell she was crying. There was another long pause.

"Why did you call, Quinn?" Rachel asked, sighing. Her heart faltered as she uttered Quinn's name again—it almost felt like taboo to use it, like a weird mixture of elation and fury.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"Well I'm fine."

"Are you really?"

"…No." Rachel let out a deep breath. "But that doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters! It matters to me! I want you to be happy, Rach."

"Are you happy?"

"Well…no, not exactly."

"Brittany talked to me last week. Practically begged me to take you back. She said you're messing up your life again, and she wanted me to save you, or something like that."

"I don't need saving."

"From what Brittany told me, you do. But not from me, Quinn. From yourself. Getting back together isn't going to miraculously fix all of your issues."

"I know that. I'm not asking you to help me!"

"Well tell Brittany that!"

"You fucking tell her!" Quinn yelled, and Rachel's blood boiled.

"I shouldn't have even answered the phone. I don't know why I didn't hang up the minute I heard your voice."

"I think you do know why," Quinn whispered.

"Oh? Care to enlighten me, then?" Rachel spat.

Quinn heaved a sigh and sniffled a little, speaking only after about thirty seconds.

"Tell me you don't love me anymore."

"What?"

"Do it, Rachel. Tell me that, and I swear I'll leave you alone. I won't ever call you again, and I'll threaten Santana and Brittany to make sure they don't bother you anymore either," Quinn spoke quickly, her through seeming to constrict as she got the words out.

"This is ridiculous," Rachel huffed.

"Why is it ridiculous?" Quinn pressed.

"Because…because you know I can't tell you that," Rachel said, finally breaking down and crying. Huge, wracking sobs bubbled from her chest as she curled herself onto her bed and cried. Quinn said nothing, staying silent on the phone until Rachel's sobs had finally let up.

"I love you too, Rachel. You know I never stopped."

"I-I didn't either."

"Then give me another shot. I need you, Rachel…I need you more than I've ever needed anything in the entire fucking world," Quinn admitted, letting loose a sob of her own.

"You've got to get cleaned up. I promise I'll help in whatever way I can, like I always promised, but you have to really make an effort and fight. I need that from you, ok?"

"Ok," Quinn said, her voice wavering and weak. "Ok. I hate that I'm like this. I want to be everything you deserve, and I know this isn't it."

"We'll get through it together, just like last time," Rachel sighed, a huge weight starting to lift from her shoulders.

"Will you come over later? I'd love to see you…hold you."

"I…ok," Rachel nodded. "But no sex. I can't do that yet, not after what Britt said."

"What did she say?" Quinn asked, her tone nervous.

"Nothing. I don't want to talk about it right now, I'm sure it'll come up later but I don't think I can bear to think about it at this point. I'll be over in a few hours, ok? I'll bring you some chicken broth."

"I'm not sick."

"It's your safe food."

"You remembered."

"Of course I did. I'll see you soon, Quinn."

"See you," Quinn breathed, and then added. "Wait!"

"Yeah?" Rachel asked, bringing the phone back up to her ear.

"I love you."

"I love you too." And with that she hung up the phone and let out a deep, long breath.


	11. Chapter 11

**Prompt: Rachel's first party (including Santana and Puck)**

"You ready?" Quinn asked, extending her arm to put the car in park. She unbuckled her seatbelt and swiveled her body so that she could face her girlfriend in the passenger's seat.

"I think so," Rachel nodded slowly after taking a deep breath. Biting her lip and looking nervously to Quinn, she tucked a piece of hair—which Quinn had gently curled for her only hours before—behind her ear and nodded again. "You promise to stay with me the whole night? And make sure I don't do anything stupid? And if I need to go outside for a break—"

"Then I'll personally escort you," Quinn chuckled, taking Rachel's hand and rubbing her thumb over the back. "You've been to parties before, Rach. This one won't be all that different." She offered a soothing smile and squeezed Rachel's hand.

"I've only ever been to Glee stuff," she pointed out. "This is like, a _real _party. It looks like half the school is here…"

"It'll be fun, I promise," Quinn smiled. "You'll have me there the entire night, and Puck's here, and of course Santana and Brittany as well. There's nothing to be nervous about, ok?"

"I just…I've heard so many stories from you about what these parties are like, and what can happen," she paused, "what _has_ happened…to you, and…and.."

"Rachel, whatever happened to me at these parties was because I was irresponsible and fucked-up and went looking for any way to destroy myself. None of that is going to happen to you, because you're smart and confident, and because I'll be with you the entire time. I promise I won't leave you, and like we said—if it gets to be too much, we can always leave." Quinn wove her fingers between Rachel's and bent down to grab her purse. "So, are you ready? Because you look way too hot to just sit in a car all night," she winked, leaning over to steal a kiss.

Rachel giggled and cupped Quinn's cheek.

"I look nowhere near as good as you. Have I told you lately how much I adore that dress?"

"Only about five times in the last two hours," Quinn laughed, pulling away and shutting off the car. "I bought it for you, you know. I mean, with you in mind," she clarified. "I knew you'd like it."

"I like anything on you that makes it easier for me to picture you naked," Rachel raised her eyebrows and watched as Quinn's face turned beet red. She leaned over to kiss Quinn again, lightly scratching the back of her neck.

"Perv," Quinn mumbled into the kiss.

"Hmm, look who's talking," Rachel giggled, detaching her lips and gesturing toward her thigh, where Quinn's hand was climbing higher and higher.

Quinn shook her head and cleared her throat, patting Rachel's thigh once before getting out of the car. After they'd gotten the alcohol Quinn had brought out of the trunk, they made their way to the front porch, where they could already hear loud, pumping music and raucous shouting.

"Get ready, babe," Quinn raised her eyebrows and pushed open the door, taking Rachel's hand and leading her inside the house.

Chaos didn't even begin to cover the state of the room—there were more people than Quinn had expected, and it was impossible to see more than a foot in front of her face, as the room was jam packed with bodies in various states of dress and undress, moving around and yelling loudly. Quinn looked to Rachel, whose eyes had gone wide.

"Let's go find Puck and San, ok?" she yelled, gripping Rachel's hand tighter. When she saw Rachel give a nod, Quinn ducked into the crowd, pulling the shorter girl along with her. She heard a few people call her name, but by the time she had turned around to see who was calling, they had disappeared into the throng. Pushing her way through the mass of people, Quinn tugged Rachel into the adjacent room. The second they passed over the threshold, a group of people turned toward Quinn; a few of the guys in the group all nudged each other and started whispering loudly and laughing. Quinn hurriedly pulled Rachel away and into the next room.

"Found Puck," she said loudly, stepping into the kitchen and pointing to the mowhawked football played, bending over the cooler next to the fridge. "Puck!" she yelled, picking up her pace and rushing to his side.

"Quinn!" Puck cried, when he had seen who was yelling for him. Popping the cap of a Bud Light, he shoved it into Quinn's hands and then bent over to get another for himself. "This place is insane! Rick's already broken about two windows, and word is some freshman girls are already puking in the bathroom."

"It's eleven o'clock," Quinn rolled her eyes, taking a long swig from the beer Puck had handed her.

"I know," Puck nodded. "Fucking lightweights. Anyway, how are you fine ladies doing tonight?" He wiggled his eyebrows and gave them both very conspicuous once-overs. Quinn narrowed her eyes and pulled Rachel closer into her side.

"I'm still trying to get my bearings," Rachel laughed nervously, looking up at Quinn. "This is kind of my first big party," she admitted.

Quinn leaned over and kissed the top of her head, whispering, "you'll be fine," into her ear.

"Damn straight she will," Puck nodded sloppily, spilling his beer a little as he did so. "She's got Jew blood in her."

"What? Noah, I don't see what my religion has to do with—"

"Just ignore him, he's already hammered," Quinn rolled her eyes again and bent over the drink cooler, digging through the ice to find something Rachel might like.

"_Ow ow_! Bend over a little more, Fabray!" a boy in a varsity lacrosse jacket called from the corner, his eyes on Quinn's ass.

"Shut the fuck up, Matt," Puck shot at the boy, just as Quinn stood back up looking livid.

"Hold this," she growled, thrusting a cranberry juice into Rachel's hands before storming toward the boy who had yelled to her. Before the boy's alcohol-sodden brain could comprehend what was happening, Quinn's fist was wrapped around his shirt and she was leaning in toward his face. "If you don't keep your eyes to yourself for the rest of the night, I'm going to tell your girlfriend what you did with Rebecca Sommers at Santana's Fourth of July party. And she won't be nearly as forgiving as I'm being right now. So fuck you, and I hope your night turns out awful," she cursed, spinning around and walking back across the room to join Puck and Rachel, the latter of which had her jaw hanging open and heady eyes trained on Quinn.

"Well, that's that. He shouldn't be bothering me anymore tonight," Quinn sneered, taking the can back from Puck and turning to Rachel, who was watching her with a hungry look in her eyes.

"That was…God, you're sexy," she breathed out, wrapping her arms around Quinn's neck and pulling her down for a searing kiss.

After a few seconds they broke apart, and Quinn grinned widely.

"I didn't know that turned you on so much," she chuckled.

"You have no idea," Rachel groaned, unwinding her hands from Quinn's neck.

"_I_ have an idea," Puck grinned, watching the two girls. "But I think I'd definitely like to have a _better_ idea, if you know what I mean," he winked.

"If you're implying that you want us to make out simply for your pleasure, Noah…you're going to have to get a few drinks in me before I even consider it," Rachel said. "I'm assuming this is for me?" she asked in a softer voice, holding up the cranberry juice Quinn had forced into her hands.

"Yeah, if you'd like. I was thinking I could make you a mixed drink with the vodka we brought," Quinn offered.

"Yes please," Rachel nodded, hopping up onto one of the few empty bar stools in the kitchen and watching as Quinn finished off the beer Puck had handed her mere minutes before, and began to mix them some drinks.

"Ok, so you're going to want to drink this slowly," she advised, holding out he vodka and juice for Rachel to take. "Try not to finish it before the hour is up, ok? And let me know if it's too strong…I like it that way, but if it's too much for you I can add more juice."

Rachel nodded slowly, tilting the cup back and taking her first sip. She cringed.

"It tastes….like burning," she choked out once the liquor was down her throat.

"That's vodka," Quinn nodded, dumping a shot or two more into her own drink before taking Rachel's hand and nodding toward the door. "Let's go find San, ok?"

"Ok," Rachel grinned, already beginning to feel her face muscles relax as she took another sip. "Where did Noah go?" she asked, letting Quinn pull her through the kitchen and out toward the back porch.

"Probably to go find some desperate freshman to hook up with," Quinn shrugged. "He'll be back. Give it an hour and he'll show up with a joint and a wasted girl on his arm."

Rachel frowned, stopping to a halt and tugging on Quinn's hand. Feeling herself jolt backward, Quinn looked behind her, worry filling her as she glanced at Rachel's expression.

"What's wrong?"

Rachel didn't speak for a moment. When she did, her voice was soft and cracked.

"That used to be you, didn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Quinn was confused, her brain fuzzy from the beer and few sips of vodka.

"The wasted girl on his arm…"

"Oh. Um, well…yeah, sometimes," Quinn admitted quietly. There was a pause and then she added. "Can we not talk about that tonight, though?"

"Those guys in the living room when we walked in… they were all staring at you and whispering," Rachel breathed, her eyes moistening as she spoke. "I thought they were whispering about us being together but I just realized…they were whispering about you, weren't they? Because you—"

"Rachel, stop," Quinn pleaded, tightening her grip on Rachel's hand and attempting to pull her down the porch steps.

"Please just tell me the truth," Rachel whispered, her eyes cast down. "Which one of those guys did you sleep with?"

Quinn didn't speak for a minute; when she finally gathered herself, she took a deep breath and let go of Rachel's hand, sitting down on the wooden steps. The back door opened and closed, and a group of loud girls stumbled past them, but Quinn didn't look up. After a moment, Rachel sat down beside her and sighed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business and I didn't mean to ruin our night. Honestly, let's just forget—"

"The tall one."

"Pardon?"

"I slept with the tall one. His name was Brandon, or Henry, or something. He goes to Carmel High, and he's friends with some of the guys on the football team," Quinn started. "It was about six months ago, and it was a party at Puck's house."

"Stop, ok? I apologized, I don't want to hear—"

"You asked, Rachel," Quinn whispered, her voice harsh and painful as she looked up with tear-filled eyes. "You asked me to be honest. That night I had eight shots of tequila, two beers, and I was on a handful of Xanax that I stole from Puck's mom's medicine cabinet. I don't remember much, other than it hurting, and him calling me a desperate slut before pulling out and leaving the room."

"Quinn…"

"I woke up in Santana's bed the next morning and I had this," she held out her forearm and pointed to one of the thicker pink scars running the width of her wrist. "Santana said she found me bleeding in the bathroom and took me back to her house. She stayed up the entire night making sure I didn't die."

Quinn took a deep breath and wiped a few tears from her cheek.

"So there you go, Rachel. There's your honesty."

"Oh Quinn," Rachel breathed, wiping at her own cheeks before wrapping her arms around Quinn and holding her tightly. "That's never going to happen again, ok? I will never _ever_ let that happen to you. I love you so much."

When she had taken a few cleansing breaths and calmed down a bit, Quinn nodded.

"Let's just forget it."

"Of course," Rachel conceded. She intended to bring everything up again once they were both sober, and allow Quinn to talk and get everything out, but she knew this wasn't the appropriate time. "We came to have fun, right? Let's go find Santana."

It didn't take them long to find the Latina girl. A short walk to the side of the house and they located her in a group of other cheer girls, a lighter in her hand and a smile on her face.

"Hey San," Quinn called, stepping up next to her.

"Q! Berry!" Santana yelled drunkenly, tripping slightly as she made to loop one arm around Quinn and the other around Rachel. "You bitches made it! What the fuck took you so long? Britt, Puck, and I got here like an hour ago."

"God, San, how much have you had to drink?" Quinn asked, noticing how she was basically carrying Santana's entire weight as the darker girl leaned on her.

"Fuck if I know," Santana shrugged, stumbling out of the other girls' grasps and taping one of the cheerleaders on the shoulder. "Hand it over," she nodded, taking a small baggie back from the girl and holding it out to Quinn. "Want some? Just bought an eighth off of Derek Hannigan—fucker ripped me off, but it was either that or blow him, and I'm not about that so…" she shrugged again, dangling the bad of pot in front of Quinn's face.

"I'll take a few hits if you're rolling, but not too much," Quinn said, gesturing to Rachel, whose eyes had slid a little more out of focus as she took another large gulp of her drink. "I'm with Rachel tonight."

"So? I'm not asking you to sleep with me, Q, I'm asking you if you want to smoke…"

"Yeah, and I'm not planning on getting too fucked up tonight, ok? I'm making sure Rachel's ok." Quinn shot back, narrowing her eyes at Santana.

"Fine, fine. Go grab Puckerman, he'll be pissed if he misses this."

Quinn nodded and turned to Rachel, who was still nursing her drink, her face becoming more relaxed and her eyes unfocused as she continued to drink.

"Will you be ok with San for a minute? I'm going to go get Puck so he can smoke with us."

"Mhmmm," Rachel hummed, smiling and standing on her tip-toes to kiss the tip of Quinn's nose. "Hurry back, ok?"

"Always," Quinn promised, grinning and hurrying off toward the house.

"You turned her into a sap, you know that, Berry?" Santana rolled her eyes, stumbling backward a little as she tried to lean back against the side of the house.

"And Brittany turned you into an even bigger one," Rachel countered, finishing her drink and placing the cup on the grass.

Santana burst out laughing and nodded, digging into her jacket pocket.

"Touche, short stuff." She pulled a few pieces of rolling paper from her pocket and opened the bag of weed. "I think I like you better when you're drunk. Or when I'm drunk. Fuck I don't even know. Hold this," Santana commanded, shoving the bag of weed into Rachel's hands before starting to roll the joint.

"It's so…green," Rachel giggled, tossing the bag up and down in the air. "I bet this cost you like, like a bajillion dollars," she laughed, throwing her head back.

"You're so fucking weird," Santana shook her head, looking up when she heard Quinn's footsteps a few feet away.

"Hey, love," Quinn hummed, sidling up to Rachel's side. Rachel dropped the bag of weed and threw her arms around Quinn's neck pulling her in for a bone-crushing hug.

"You were gone for _way_ too long," she scolded, squeezing her girlfriend tightly.

"It was three minutes tops!" Quinn laughed. "But I'm glad to see you missed me."

"I always miss you, even when I'm just like, in the shower or something," Rachel mumbled, drunkenly.

"Serious mental images right now," Puck grinned, staring at Rachel, who just looked confusedly back at him.

"Mental images of what?"

"My hot little Jewish Princess in the shower," Puck snickered, moving his hand to trail down Rachel's back.

"Fuck off, Puck," Quinn snarled, swatting Puck's hand away and glaring at him. "She's not yours."

"Who's am I?" Rachel asked, still confused about what was going on.

"Jesus, Q, how much did you put in her drink?" Puck asked, eyeing Rachel as she swayed, still holding onto Quinn.

"Clearly a shot too much," Quinn laughed. "You ok, babe?"

"I'm wonderful," Rachel giggled. "I think I'm going to smoke."

"Hell yes!" Puck cheered, at the same time Santana said "Seriously?"

Quinn frowned a little and tugged Rachel's hand so that she could step off to the side with her.

"Are you sure, Rach? It's not really a good idea to mix drugs and alcohol, especially if it's your first time drinking more than a hard cider or two. And um, you've always been so against smoking…"

"I know, but I'm drunk and I want to," Rachel pouted. "Don't be mad, ok?"

"Being drunk isn't an excuse for making bad decisions," Quinn pointed out. "I should know."

"But I have you here to look out for me. Please? Please let me at least try a little?"

Quinn sighed and kept her eyes on Rachel, her resolve growing weaker with every minute Rachel held that adorable pout on her face.

"Fine, fine, but only a few hits. Chances are since it's your first time, you won't even feel anything. And then you're sticking to vodka and juice for the rest of the night, got it?"

"Yes mom," Rachel begrudged.

"Ok, ok, but like… I _love_ drunk Berry," Santana guffawed from a few feet away. "She's got balls."

"Santana I actually think my distinct lack of balls is the reason Quinn and I have sex all the time."

"Rachel!" Quinn cried, moving to cover Rachel's mouth with her hand.

Santana burst into laughter again, and Puck's eyes grew wide.

"All the time?" he asked, and Quinn could've sworn she saw a bit of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. She groaned and uncovered Rachel's mouth.

"Maybe you shouldn't have any more to drink tonight," she said, though she chuckled even so.

Rachel had the decency to look slightly sheepish, though the look was short lived, because Santana was holding the joint in front of her face.

"Want the first hit? In honor of it being your first time?" she slurred, shaking the lighter to make sure it had enough fluid.

"Um, I don't really know how…" Rachel confessed, biting her lip.

"I'll take the first," Quinn said, "You can watch me, ok Rach? Watch what I do and then just do the same. Since we're not smoking out of a bowl, it'll be a lot easier on you. Just light the tip," she instructed, watching as the paper caught fire. "And take a really slow breath in. Don't take too much too quickly or you're going to burn your throat. Then hold it in for a few seconds and blow out the smoke." Quinn demonstrated a few times and then held out the joint for Rachel, who took it tentatively.

"Will you light it for me?" Rachel asked, fumbling with the lighter, her coordination marred by the alcohol. Nodding, Quinn took the lighter from her girlfriend, waited for her to put the joint to her lips, and then lit the tip. Rachel, inexperienced as she was, quickly sucked in an impressive amount of smoke and then promptly blew out, coughing uncontrollably.

"You're wasting it," Santana groaned, taking the joint back from Rachel and taking another hit on her own.

"It's ok, don't listen to her," Quinn soothed, rubbing Rachel's back as she coughed. "It takes some getting used to. I should've brought you out some water…" she frowned.

"Yeah, no worries, Rach. When I started back in fifth grade, I burned my throat every time," Puck said, taking a drag from the joint.

"F-fifth grade?" Rachel choked out incredulously, after she had finally stopped coughing.

"The delinquencies start early in the Puckerman family," Puck shrugged, passing the joint off to Quinn.

"Do you want another one? We could try shotgunning it, so that it'll burn less," Quinn offered Rachel.

"Shotgunning?"

"Quinn just wants an excuse to make out with you," Santana elbowed her best friend in the ribs. "Shotgunning is when she takes a drag, holds the smoke in, and then you two lock lips and she blows the smoke into your mouth for you to breathe in."

"I don't need an excuse to make out with my girlfriend," Quinn protested, but smiled all the same. "Do you want to try that, Rach?"

"Mmmm, yes," Rachel giggled, moving to face Quinn.

Once the smoke was in Quinn's lungs, she leaned over and pressed her lips to Rachel's gently blowing out and feeling the smoke exit her body and enter Rachel's.

"It's warm," Rachel breathed, once she'd blown the smoke out of her own mouth.

"You're warm," Quinn murmured, nuzzling her forehead against Rachel's. "Want to go back inside now? We can get another drink and see what's going on in there."

"Ok," Rachel agreed, waving goodbye to Santana and Puck before following Quinn back inside. The second they stepped over the threshold, the noise level increased drastically—where there were maybe twenty people outside, there were at least a hundred inside the house. Sidestepping a boy who had fallen and was drunkenly trying to stand back up, Quinn led Rachel back into the kitchen where she had hid her bottle of vodka in a cabinet under the sink for safekeeping.

"You're getting way less this time," Quinn chuckled, watching as Rachel swayed and almost missed the stool on which she was attempting to sit.

"But it was so yummy," Rachel hummed, cradling her chin in her hands and batting her eyelashes at Quinn.

"Yeah and your dads will kill me if they see you have a hangover tomorrow when they get home from their vacation."

"It's funny how scared of them you are," Rachel teased, hooking her legs around Quinn's legs and pulling her closer.

"Rach! You almost made me spill this," Quinn berated, quickly finishing Rachel's drink and handing it over to her. "Drink slowly. Got it?"

"You're one to talk! How much have you had so far?"

"I've built up a higher tolerance," Quinn pointed out, "and I'm drinking mixed drinks with you—normally I just take shots."

"Oh," Rachel nodded, Quinn's words not really registering well with her intoxicated brain. "Have I told you tonight how amazingly hot you look in that dress?"

Quinn burst out laughing and resisted the urge to remind Rachel that this was now the sixth time she'd said just that.

"Hmm, no. Tell me again," she said instead.

"Well you're like, incredibly hot. You're probably the hottest thing I've ever seen, actually."

"Probably?" Quinn gasped in mock offense.

"Well I mean, I _did_ see Wicked with Idina Menzel…" Rachel giggled.

"Ugh, babe that's so creepy. I know you have a crush on her, but it weirds me out because you two look like clones."

"Oh my god. Quinn!?" Rachel gasped.

"Oh my god, what!?" Quinn teased, reaching out to play with the ends of Rachel's curled hair.

"Imagine if I had a clone, I could do that thing you like with my tongue and at the same time I could also be sucking on your n—"

"RACHEL!" Quinn yelled, her eyes growing wide as she turned a deep shade of red.

"It's… it's true though," Rachel tilted her head to the side, looking confused. "Isn't it?"

"It is, love, it is. But you can't just say things like that in public," Quinn chuckled.

"Oh. Are you mad?" Rachel pouted, looking worried and apologetic.

"Not at all. I think you're an adorable drunk, though."

"Do you want to go back outside?" Rachel asked.

"Not really. Do you?"

"No. I'd rather go upstairs."

"Upstairs?"

"You know…isn't that what people say during parties when they want to get away and go have sex?" Rachel asked, seriously.

"Rachel Berry, what has gotten into you?" Quinn teased, already feeling her face begin to warm.

"Hopefully you," Rachel smirked, bounding off the stool and pulling Quinn into the next room and up a flight of stairs. They stumbled into one of the guest bedrooms, Rachel so impatient that she had her entire outfit off by the time Quinn locked the door and turned around.

"My god, I love you," Quinn shook her head before backing Rachel up and falling back with her onto the bed.


End file.
